


Talk all through the night

by mousecat, notallballs (notallbees)



Series: Make it home alright stories [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Polyamory, Post-Canon, eventual OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:29:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousecat/pseuds/mousecat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/notallbees/pseuds/notallballs
Summary: Wakatoshi reached out to rest his hand over Oikawa's knee. Something about their surroundings suited him, or maybe it was just that Wakatoshi had never gotten over the sight of Oikawa in shorts and sweating from exertion.Ushijima takes Oikawa camping.





	Talk all through the night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's us again :D we figured it was time Ushijima got a chance to tell the story for a bit, as the other two have been hogging the limelight with their shenanigans.

One of the things Wakatoshi missed most about Miyagi was being able to leave his parents' house and walk straight out into the hills, or down to the stream beyond the edge of their garden. As a child he'd watched tadpoles grow into frogs, and a family of foxes who denned there every year, their cubs rolling around together in the dirt. From his apartment in Tokyo, he couldn't walk out to anywhere but the occasional park or shrine. He missed the sense of getting lost somewhere, of burying himself deep in the woods, or standing at the summit of a mountain and looking out at the patchwork of fields and farms scattered below like pieces from a board game. 

"Wakaccha—an!" 

Wakatoshi turned, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looked back down the path to where Oikawa was sitting on top of a large rock, one of his upturned boots in his hand. 

"What is it?" Wakatoshi called back, starting toward him. The downward slope of the path jolted him as he walked back down it. "A stone?"

Oikawa shook his head. "It's nothing," he said, feigning brightness. He dropped his walking boot on the ground between his feet, and reached up to brush his hair off his forehead. There was sweat on his temples, the underside of his hair damp, and he wore a faint blush of sunburn across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. 

Wakatoshi swallowed hard. They had another two miles to walk before they reached the campsite, but he was eager for the opportunity to reach out and touch. "Are you alright?" he asked, crouching down beside Oikawa's left knee. 

"Perfectly fine," Oikawa said. He grinned down at Wakatoshi, then he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to the sun. He lifted one hand and fanned himself idly. "I'm so hot though."

"Have some more water," Wakatoshi said, reaching for his pack. "You must keep hydrated."

"I know, I know," Oikawa said, waving him off. "Don't fuss, Wakacchan."

Wakatoshi frowned. "Iwaizumi asked me to look after you."

Oikawa laughed. "No he didn't. He just knows you _will_."

"Well, that's true," Wakatoshi agreed. He reached out to rest his hand over Oikawa's knee. Something about their surroundings suited him, or maybe it was just that Wakatoshi had never gotten over the sight of Oikawa in shorts and sweating from exertion. 

"What's on your mind?" Oikawa asked, sitting up again and reaching for his water bottle. "You're so quiet."

Wakatoshi blinked up at him. The sun fell across Oikawa's face, bringing out the freckles across his cheekbones. His sweaty fringe flopped forward into his eyes again, and he pushed it back with a sigh. 

Wakatoshi groaned softly and reached up to cup the side of Oikawa's neck, the skin warm and damp beneath his palm. 

Oikawa's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"I just enjoy looking at you," Wakatoshi murmured. 

A flush tore across Oikawa's cheeks, and he pushed Wakatoshi's hand away with a derisory snort. "You always know just what to say to embarrass me."

"That's not my aim," Wakatoshi said, letting his hand fall to Oikawa's knee again. "Besides, there's nobody around. You don't need to be embarrassed."

Oikawa beamed at him. "That's true!" he said. He leaned forward, cupping Wakatoshi's face between both his hands, and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He lingered as he pulled away again, brushing their lips together softly. "Mmm," he hummed. "How about we ditch the rest of the hike and just do that for the whole weekend?"

"We wouldn't be able to set up the tent here," Wakatoshi said reasonably.

"True," Oikawa sighed, rolling his eyes. He reached for his walking boot and pulled it on again, bending to retie the laces. "Let's go then."

They walked for another hour, by which point Wakatoshi had all but confirmed his suspicion from earlier, that Oikawa was favouring his right foot. 

"We can take a rest," he suggested, pausing by a fallen tree. 

Oikawa scowled at him. "I know what you're doing. Don't fuss, I'm fine." He propped a hand on his hip, and looked around with a sigh. "Aren't we almost there, anyway?"

"...Yes," Wakatoshi admitted, frowning. "I'm concerned about—"

Oikawa interrupted him with a huff. "I'm _fine_."

Wakatoshi nodded. "So you said. I'm concerned about the weather. It is supposed to rain later." 

Oikawa straightened up. "Oh. Well then. All the more reason for us to hurry up and get there." He glanced up through the canopy cover. "Although, I think you should get a second opinion on that weather report. It's been nothing but sunny skies all day."

"The weather can change quickly at this altitude," Wakatoshi explained patiently. "It's easy to be caught off guard."

"So you really think it will rain?" Oikawa asked, face falling.

Wakatoshi nodded again. "I think it is likely."

Oikawa's nose wrinkled. "The tent _is_ waterproof, isn't it?"

"Of course."

"Then there's no problem!" Oikawa said, with what Wakatoshi suspected was false brightness. He strode off ahead, boots kicking through the gravel. "Come on, Wakacchan!"

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi said, matching his pace. "Is your ankle troubling you?"

Oikawa's shoulders stiffened. "Not at all!"

"You seemed to be limping slightly."

"It's these new shoes, that's all," Oikawa said dismissively. "I didn't have time to wear them in."

"I see."

They walked a short way in silence, then Oikawa dropped back, brushing their hands together as he walked alongside Wakatoshi. "Do you know a lot about birds and things?" he asked, sounding thoughtful.

"Some, yes," Wakatoshi said, nodding. "My stepfather taught me a little. Do you?"

Oikawa grinned at him. "Nope! You'll have to teach me."

Wakatoshi nodded, and let their hands bump together again. He wondered if Oikawa would mind if they held hands. It wasn't something they had ever really done, and he couldn't help wondering if Oikawa held hands with Iwaizumi. 

"What about that one?" Oikawa asked, grabbing hold of his wrist. He pulled Wakatoshi to a halt, indicating a nearby tree and a small bird perched on a branch.

"Ah," Wakatoshi said, swallowing hard. Oikawa's fingers were warm around his wrist, and he longed to catch them with his own and squeeze tight. He forced himself to focus on the question he'd been asked, instead of the way Oikawa's skin felt against his. "I believe it is a shrike."

"The ones that impale their prey on stuff?"

"Exactly."

Oikawa tipped his head to one side, wrinkling his nose. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." 

"Weird."

Oikawa's hand slipped down to Wakatoshi's, and Wakatoshi smiled and curled their fingers together. They watched the shrike as it hopped along the branch, then took wing and disappeared amongst the trees.

"It's surprisingly...cute," Oikawa said, glancing at him. "For such an aggressive bird."

Wakatoshi frowned as a thought struck him. "Did it remind you of Iwaizumi somewhat?

"Wakacchan!" Oikawa exclaimed, turning to him with wide eyes, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Ah, just me then."

Oikawa laughed loudly. "I can't believe you said that!"

Wakatoshi looked away. "Then pretend I didn't."

"Oh no no," Oikawa said, tugging him back by their joined hands. "You're not getting away that easily. You just called Iwa-chan _cute_."

Of all the times to hand Oikawa such prime material to tease him with, Wakatoshi felt that he couldn't have chosen a much worse moment than being isolated with him on top of a mountain. It was tempting to pull free of Oikawa's grasp and walk on, but he didn't want to let go. 

"He is...objectively attractive," Wakatoshi said, taking a few steps. Their arms stretched taut between them, and then Oikawa finally followed, falling into step just behind him. 

"Objectively," Oikawa said, giving Wakatoshi's arm a playful tug. "Be still my beating heart."

Wakatoshi glanced over at him, face impassive, but said nothing.

"Stop it, Wakacchan," Oikawa teased, his voice fond. "You'll give me _ideas_."

"I did not mean anything by it, Oikawa," Wakatoshi said.

Oikawa's smile spread across his face. "I know you a little better than that, you know."

A faint colour rose in Wakatoshi's cheeks. "I don't—that is, I have no intentions toward Iwaizumi-kun."

"No?"

"Of course not," he said calmly. "I have no wish to interfere."

"Well then," Oikawa said, looking vaguely flustered. He gave a decisive nod, then tugged on Wakatoshi's hand again. "Let's go."

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi said, stumbling after him a few paces until he found his feet. "Really, I meant nothing by—"

Oikawa rounded on him. "Alright!" he said, his voice a shade too loud, especially in the quiet of the woods. He seemed to catch himself a moment later; his expression softened, and when he spoke again his voice was closer to normal. "It's fine, Wakacchan. I have an objectively attractive shrike. We can leave it at that."

Wakatoshi frowned. "You're not...angry? Or jealous?"

"You said yourself, there's nothing to be jealous of," Oikawa said, glancing away. 

"Precisely."

"Mm."

After a few moments, Oikawa pulled his hand free so that he could grab the water bottle from his bag. Wakatoshi listened to him swallow noisily, eyes drawn to the bob of his throat as he drank. When Oikawa was finished, he glanced across and gave Wakatoshi a brief smirk before continuing along the path without him. 

Wakatoshi followed. He wanted to take Oikawa's hand again, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had upset him. They continued on in silence, the ground growing steeper and more rocky beneath them as the sparse trees thinned out to nothing. 

"Oh," Oikawa gasped, when they finally crested a ridge, and realised they'd reached the summit. "Wakacchan," he said softly. "Look."

Wakatoshi stepped up beside him. They were both red in the face and short of breath, and Wakatoshi's legs and shoulders ached powerfully, but all of that fell away as he stood beside Oikawa, staring out at the valley behind them. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows and covering everything in a sticky orange glow. 

Wakatoshi was aware of Oikawa beside him, the heat from his body, the slight shudder of his chest as his breathing returned to normal. He reached out and found Oikawa's hand, threading their fingers together. His heart was in his throat as he waited to see whether Oikawa would pull away again, but he just moved closer and squeezed Wakatoshi's fingers more tightly. Wakatoshi let out the breath he was holding, a smile touching his mouth. 

"I guess we should hurry," Oikawa said, sounding subdued. 

Following his gaze, Wakatoshi noticed the dark clouds gathering behind them. "Yes, we should set up camp soon."

 

—

 

They finally reached the campsite a short while later. Although they had seen a few other hikers along the path, the campsite was quiet and empty. Wakatoshi let Oikawa choose a spot to set up camp, and they set about unloading their heavy packs. Once they had everything unpacked, Wakatoshi straightened up, turning his face to the last strains of the setting sun. A chill breeze had picked up, raising the hairs on his arms. 

"We should set up the tent soon."

"Don't you want to eat first?" Oikawa asked, looking up at him.

Wakatoshi frowned. "I think it's going to rain soon."

"Ah," Oikawa said, pouting. "I suppose we don't want to try and put it up in the rain. You're sure it's going to keep us dry?"

"Don't worry," Wakatoshi said, bending down to retrieve the tent poles. "Why don't I set it up while you light the stove?"

"I can do that!" Oikawa grinned, and flashed him a peace sign. "Leave it to Oikawa-san."

Wakatoshi began to assemble the tent, but within a minute or two it became clear that Oikawa had no idea what he was doing. 

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi began, trying not to smile. "Do you need some help?"

"It's not working, Wakacchan," Oikawa whined, shoulders slumping. "Is there some trick to it?"

Wakatoshi put down the poles and crossed over to him. "Let me show you," he said gently, reaching for the matches.

Oikawa pouted. "Fine. Then let me put up the tent at least."

"If you like," Wakatoshi said, nodding. "The instructions should be in my pack." He showed Oikawa how to work the stove, then set about heating up the food they had brought while Oikawa began to tackle the tent. 

"Does your family really do this every year?" Oikawa asked after a little while. 

"Yes. I'm sorry that you are not enjoying it."

"Of course I am!" Oikawa protested. "It's all very… _adventurous_."

"If you're sure." Wakatoshi glanced over. Oikawa hadn't made much progress with assembling the tent, and was in the midst of attempting to join two poles that didn't fit together. Wakatoshi hesitated; Oikawa hated people pointing out when he'd done something wrong. Deciding it was better to intervene, he called out, "Can you manage with the tent?"

"I _have_ put up a tent before, Ushiwaka-chan," Oikawa scoffed. "Just because we Oikawas tend to be resort people doesn't mean I'm _completely_ clueless."

"I don't believe you are," Wakatoshi said evenly. "Are you sure you wouldn't like the instructions?"

"I'm following the instructions!" Oikawa said, picking up a piece of paper and waving it at him.

Wakatoshi frowned. "I see." Whatever Oikawa was doing was nowhere in the instructions, as far as Wakatoshi was aware, but he was reluctant to interfere any further. He turned back to his own task, and politely ignored the string of muttered curses coming from behind him. 

Finally, they were both done with their tasks, just as the first drops of rain began to fall from the sky. 

"Ready with the curry?" Oikawa asked, creeping over to him. He propped his chin on Wakatoshi's shoulder, one arm snaking around his waist. 

"Almost," Wakatoshi said, picking up the pot to spoon into their bowls. "Hungry?"

" _Starving_ ," Oikawa sighed. He made a grab for his bowl as soon as Wakatoshi had filled it, and scooted offer to shelter under the front canopy of the tent. 

Wakatoshi joined him moments later. Light rain was beginning to fall more steadily, pattering softly on the ground, louder on the roof of the tent. It had grown much colder, the last of the day's heat draining away, and Wakatoshi smiled to himself when Oikawa shuffled closer to him. For several minutes they ate in a companionable silence. The regular sounds of Oikawa's jaw working as he chewed his rice were comforting, and Wakatoshi's stomach twinged pleasantly every time Oikawa made soft noises of appreciation under his breath. 

"It's a shame we won't see any stars," Oikawa said at last, setting down his empty bowl. "I'd hoped we could do some stargazing out here."

"Perhaps we can come again," Wakatoshi suggested.

Oikawa shrugged. "Perhaps we can. Unless you'd rather bring Iwa-chan next time."

By now, they knew one another too well for Wakatoshi to be fooled by the affected casualness of Oikawa's tone. He finished chewing his last mouthful of rice, then picked up both their bowls, and swilled them out with rainwater. 

"Oikawa," he said, turning back to his companion. "About Iwaizumi—"

"Don't," Oikawa said, his voice tight. "I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say."

Wakatoshi frowned. Reading people was always challenging, and Oikawa was more impenetrable than most. Still, he'd gotten better at recognising certain habits; the tone of his voice, the way he flicked his hair, the way he fidgeted with whatever was in his hands. At that moment, Oikawa was toying with the spoon from his curry, running the pad of his thumb around the curved edge of it. 

"It bothers you," Wakatoshi said, hoping that he was right. 

Oikawa's nose scrunched up, and he heaved a sigh. "I'm not—good at sharing," he admitted at last, forcing the words out as though they were causing him physical pain. "It's not about you, or Iwa-chan. I'm just. Selfish."

Wakatoshi moved closer again, and after a moment's hesitation, reached out to cover Oikawa's hand with his own. "I don't think that's selfish," he said. "You can't help the way you feel. It's natural to be protective of your relationship."

"But I don't mean to be," Oikawa complained. "I don't want either of you to think I don't trust you, or that I don't have as much faith in us as you both do." 

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi said gently. He reached up and caught Oikawa's jaw with his hand, turning his pout toward him. "Tooru," he said, lowering his voice. 

Oikawa met his gaze, eyes heavy and dark. "Waka—" he murmured. 

They leaned in toward one another, and Wakatoshi put out his free hand to brace himself against one of the tent poles. As Oikawa's lips pressed against his, the pole slipped out from under his hand, and the two of them toppled back through the opening of the tent. Before Wakatoshi could right himself, the rest of the structure collapsed in on top of them. Oikawa started swearing.

"Fuck!" he shouted, scrabbling at the canvas, somewhere to Wakatoshi's left. 

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi said, groaning softly. "Don't panic—"

"I can't—do anything— _right_ ," Oikawa shouted, finally struggling free of the wet, twisted canvas and lifting it off them both.

Wakatoshi got clumsily to his feet. They had already taken off their walking boots, and the wet grass stuck to his bare feet. He reached out to put his arms on Oikawa's shoulders, stilling his troubled pacing. 

"I swear, I followed the instructions!" Oikawa burst out, his face wretched. "I'm just—I'm no good at this, I'm sorry Wakacchan, I just—"

"It's alright," Wakatoshi said, cutting across Oikawa's babbling apology. He gave Oikawa's shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "It doesn't matter."

Oikawa's mouth parted, his lower lip trembling. Rain was catching in his hair, and splashing on his pink cheeks. "But—"

"Take this," Wakatoshi said, bending down to retrieve his waterproof. He tugged it around Oikawa's shoulders. "Let me fix the tent, it will only take a moment."

"But—you're getting wet too," Oikawa protested, as Wakatoshi began pulling the tent poles free of the canvas and re-attaching them in the correct order. 

Wakatoshi shrugged. "It is only rain." Still, it was dark, and the electric lantern they had brought was somewhere inside the tent. "Do you have your phone? I need a light."

Oikawa hurried over, shining the torch from his phone so that Wakatoshi could see what he was doing. It only took him a minute or two to set things to rights, but when he held back the tent flap and gestured for Oikawa to enter, he held back, clutching Wakatoshi's jacket around him.

"What is it?" Wakatoshi asked, straightening up. 

"I'm sorry, Wakacchan," he muttered, looking down at his feet.

Wakatoshi frowned at him. "We should get inside the tent."

Oikawa's shoulders sagged. "Alright," he said, pouting. He walked over to the tent and clambered in, shrugging off Wakatoshi's jacket as he went. "I didn't mean to spoil your holiday," he sighed, as he set about straightening out the sleeping bags again. "I know it seems like I'm just being hopeless and bratty, but I _am_ trying—"

"Oikawa," Wakatoshi said. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides. He wanted to reach out and pull Oikawa into his arms, but he wasn't naturally demonstrative, and he didn't know when it was a good time to offer a hug. "You don't need to apologise," he said instead. "I don't think you're hopeless."

Oikawa gave a short, wet laugh, and reached up to rub one of his cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. "Promise?"

"Of course. I'm happy to be here with you."

"Even though I'm a brat?" Oikawa asked. He swayed closer, taunting. "I notice you didn't refute that part."

Finally, Wakatoshi reached out. "It's part of your charm," he said, leaning over to kiss the corner of Oikawa's mouth. 

Oikawa laughed softly. "You're all wet, I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter."

"Come here," Oikawa said, reaching to shrug off his hoodie. He used it to dry Wakatoshi's face and rubbed at his wet hair, before laying the hoodie out to dry. "You know, I can be more of a brat, if you enjoy it so much."

Wakatoshi smiled and stole another brief kiss. "Is that so?" he whispered. 

Oikawa grinned. "Never doubt it."

"Is your ankle still troubling you?"

Oikawa looked away. "My ankle?"

"You were limping this afternoon," Wakatoshi said, shifting closer. 

"Pfft." Oikawa waved him off. "I told you, I hadn't broken in my boots yet."

Wakatoshi frowned. He regretted letting Oikawa weasel his way out of the conversation earlier that evening, and had no intention of letting him do so again. "Oikawa," he began, but didn't get any further before Oikawa gave a fervent groan.

"It's just a twinge, really," Oikawa said in a reluctant voice. "And I wasn't lying about my boots, they _were_ pinching a little. That's probably the only reason my ankle started playing up in the first place."

"You should have said," Wakatoshi admonished, looking at him sternly. 

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. But I was worried you'd—I don't know, insist we go back, or try to carry me the rest of the way." 

"Neither of those would be practical solutions," Wakatoshi said, with mild reproach. He reached out, gesturing at Oikawa's left foot. "Let me help."

"You don't need to do that," Oikawa said, his expression softening. 

"Nevertheless," Wakatoshi said, waiting patiently. "I am offering."

They stared at one another for several moments longer, but eventually Oikawa relented and stretched out, putting his foot in Wakatoshi's lap. 

"If you really don't mind," Oikawa said, shrugging. "I'm not going to turn down a free foot rub. Iwa-chan's always too stingy to rub anything for me."

"I doubt that very much," Wakatoshi said evenly, taking hold of Oikawa's foot gently and propping it on his thighs. He began to flex it gently back and forth, testing the tension. Oikawa tried to hide his wince, but it was clear that he was still suffering some discomfort, and there was an unmistakeable tightness in his calf that was probably contributing to the ache in his foot. "You should stretch a little before we sleep," he observed. 

Oikawa huffed. "It's raining out, and there isn't space in here."

Both observations were true, yet Oikawa was undoubtedly making excuses. Wakatoshi opted not to argue with him, however. Oikawa was already sulky and bad tempered, and Wakatoshi was beginning to learn that it was sometimes better to hold his tongue, and pick his moment. He pushed his thumbs into the sole of Oikawa's foot, dragging pressure along the arch from his heel to the ball of his foot. 

"Ohh," Oikawa sighed, shuddering. "That feels good."

"Tell me if I hurt you," Wakatoshi said, before repeating the motion. He began to work his thumbs into the tender sole, then moved up to the ankle, and then the tight muscles in Oikawa's calf. Oikawa slowly relaxed into him, gritting his teeth when Wakatoshi found a particularly tender spot, then sighing out in relief when he moved on. 

"So," Oikawa said at last, in a tone of voice that promised danger. "If Iwa-chan is a cute little shrike, what does that make me?"

Wakatoshi answered without thinking. "A heron."

Oikawa looked up at him, smirking. "You were certainly ready with that answer," he teased.

"Forgive me," Wakatoshi said, his ears getting hot. "I just happened to be thinking about it earlier."

"No no," Oikawa said, sitting up and facing him. "I don't mind, but I am intrigued. Why a heron? Is it my long, shapely legs?" Emphasising his point, Oikawa stretched out, pointing his toes and gesturing to his bare thigh.

Wakatoshi covered Oikawa's hand with his own, then reached down to stroke his thigh. "I certainly do appreciate your legs," he murmured, moving closer. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against Oikawa's knee. 

"I can see that," Oikawa replied, a hint of breathlessness creeping into his voice. "What—what else?" 

"I just find them to be very elegant birds," Wakatoshi mused, interspersing his words with more lingering kisses as he made his way up Oikawa's inner thigh. 

Oikawa groaned and relaxed back against his sleeping bag, letting his legs fall open. "You—think I'm elegant?" he gasped. 

Wakatoshi nodded, reaching up to slide his hands under Oikawa's backside and tug him closer. "I think you are beautiful." He lowered his head, kissing Oikawa's hip just above the waistband of his underwear. 

Oikawa shivered against him, back arching to bring them closer. "Wakatoshi," he sighed. 

After six months, Wakatoshi had grown used to Oikawa's body; the way it moved; the taste of his skin; the things Wakatoshi could do to make his pulse rush. Still, that made it no less exciting each time he felt Oikawa's bare skin against his own, or the sensation of strong thighs clenched around his hips. Wakatoshi pressed his face against the hot, damp front of Oikawa's underwear, inhaling the scent of his sweat, his mouth watering at the familiar, musky smell.

"Waka—Wakacchan," Oikawa gasped, hips stuttering in Wakatoshi's grip. "I hah—haven't showered."

"Neither have I," Wakatoshi murmured, tugging on the hem of Oikawa's underwear. "Is that a problem?"

Oikawa's throat made an audible sound as he swallowed. "N-not n-necessarily," he groaned, squirming under Wakatoshi's hands. "G-god, Wakatoshi—"

Impatient to be closer, Wakatoshi placed his hands on either side of Oikawa's chest and moved up to kiss him. Oikawa latched onto his shirt, dragging him down until they were moving together on the uneven ground, only the sleeping bags and a thin sheet of canvas between their bodies and the wet grass. They undressed one another clumsily, what little they could bear to remove considering the chill in the air and their reluctance to separate from one another—and then everything was urgency and heat; a fistful of hair or clothing; blood vessels bursting under skin; heated breaths coming faster and faster. 

When they finally broke apart, they lay beside one another on a tangled sleeping bag, panting with pleasure and laughter. Wakatoshi's t-shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, and Oikawa's hair stuck out at odd angles, stiff with sweat and in disarray from Wakatoshi's fingers. Sighing a little, Wakatoshi reached over to smooth Oikawa's fringe, brushing it to the side before letting his hand fall to cup Oikawa's hot cheek.

"Wakacchan," Oikawa murmured, turning to him. His eyes were narrowed like a cat's, his body languid as he pressed it against Wakatoshi's once more. 

Beyond the sound of their heavy breathing slowly returning to normal, Wakatoshi could hear the sounds of the mountain; leaves rustling, and the distant cries of animals, just barely audible over the constant rainfall. Oikawa reached out and laid his hand over Wakatoshi's chest. 

"Thank you," Wakatoshi said softly, stroking a curl of hair back behind Oikawa's ear.

Oikawa gave him a soft, crooked smile. "What for?"

"For coming out here with me. It means a lot to me."

Oikawa's brow crumpled, and he leaned over to press a lingering kiss to Wakatoshi's mouth. "I'm so lucky," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I don't know why either of you put up with me, but I'm glad you do."

Wakatoshi shook his head slightly. "You should stick to being cocky," he teased gently. "It suits you better than humility."

He was pleased when Oikawa's quiet laughter tickled the side of his neck. "Too true, Wakacchan." 

They both fell still and quiet again, barely moving as they listened to the sound of the rain pattering on the canvas. After a minute or so, Wakatoshi became aware of Oikawa studying him, sharp eyes trained on his profile, and he glanced across curiously. 

"What's on your mind?" 

"Nothing really, just…... this really suits you," Oikawa said, his voice soft as he trailed his fingertips back and forth along Wakatoshi's wrist. "Nature and hiking and birds. I like it. It's annoying."

Wakatoshi was still light-headed and muddled, and he found himself laughing at the sight of Oikawa's nose wrinkling in distaste. "Do you get annoyed with Iwaizumi too?" he asked. "When he does something you like, I mean?"

"Of course," Oikawa said in a sniffy voice. "You're both exceedingly inconsiderate."

Wakatoshi laughed under his breath. "I suppose we are. My apologies, Tooru."

"I forgive you," Oikawa said, in the same arch tone. "But only because you're so ruggedly handsome. And you look appallingly good in those grandpa hiking shorts."

"Grandpa?" Wakatoshi said in a wondering tone.

"Very sexy-single-dad-esque," Oikawa said, nodding. 

Wakatoshi frowned. "Thank you, I think."

"Mmm." Oikawa was watching him expectantly.

"Ah, and you—" he began, glancing around the tent in search of inspiration. The bare canvas didn't offer much in the way of poetic imagery. But then he caught sight of Oikawa's bare leg splayed across the top of his sleeping bag, and he smiled to himself. "You have excellent plumage."

"O-ho!" Oikawa said, grinning as he rolled over to plant his weight on Wakatoshi's chest. "I see, Wakacchan wants to roleplay a little, does he?"

Wakatoshi said nothing, merely watched to see what Oikawa would say next. 

"Would it help if I strut around and squawk for you, Wakacchan?" Oikawa asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

Wakatoshi suppressed the urge to smile. "How would that be different to your normal behaviour?"

Oikawa's mouth dropped open. "Ushijima Wakatoshi," he said after a moment of shocked silence. "That was a low blow."

"Oh dear," Wakatoshi teased. "Am I in trouble?"

"You certainly are," Oikawa said, letting himself flop down onto Wakatoshi's chest, face smushed against his shirt. "Now I shall be playing the part of a dead fish."

Wakatoshi reached up and poked his cheek. "That would explain the pouting then."

Oikawa whined and buried his face in Wakatoshi's chest. "Wakaccha—an," he moaned. "You're almost as bad as Iwa-chan!" 

"My apologies," Wakatoshi said, running his fingers through Oikawa's hair while he was distracted. "I shall endeavour to do better."

"Good!" Oikawa said, lifting his head into Wakatoshi's touch.

"I can't let him outplay me, after all."

Oikawa let out an indignant groan and flopped back over onto his own side of the tent, his back to Wakatoshi. "That's it!" he said dramatically. "I give you an inch and you take a mile."

Wakatoshi leaned over and pressed his face against the back of Oikawa's neck. It was very warm, though whether from sunburn or embarrassment, he couldn't tell. "You should be kinder to yourself," he murmured, sliding his hand over Oikawa's hip and down. "I know you may not be familiar with imperial measurements, but you have considerably more than an inch—"

"Stop right there," Oikawa said, obviously trying not to giggle as he caught Wakatoshi's wrist in an iron grip. He turned his head and pulled Wakatoshi into a clumsy kiss. "We've got another long walk tomorrow," he murmured. "We can't just stay up having sex all night."

"No," Wakatoshi agreed. "But once more?"

Oikawa laughed that time, loud and vibrant. "I have to bring you hiking more often."

Wakatoshi's heart soared. "Really?"

"Of course," Oikawa said, turning over to face him. "Look, I—I hate doing anything I'm not good at." He heaved a sigh. "And I'm really terrible at all of this."

"I'm sorry—"

"No, no, don't be," Oikawa said, his expression softening. "I can't go my entire life only doing things I'm already good at. Eventually I have to learn something from scratch, like everyone else."

Wakatoshi nodded. "I see that."

"I thought you might," Oikawa said, winking at him. "You're just as bad as I am sometimes, you know."

"That...is a possibility," Wakatoshi admitted, with an uncomfortable twist in his chest. 

Oikawa shook his head, eyes squeezed tight. "Anyway," he said, opening them again and looking up at Wakatoshi with his dark, heavy gaze. "The point is, I like doing new things with you, even if—even if I'm terrible at them to begin with, or forever. I like that we don't just do the same old boring things together all the time."

Wakatoshi nodded as he processed what Oikawa had said. He thought of the first date Oikawa had organised for them, and how much he'd enjoyed learning to cook together. He thought of how unsettled he'd been when Oikawa coaxed him into ice skating at Christmas—even bruised and embarrassed later, he'd been able to admit to enjoying himself. 

"I like it too," he said, and his heart lifted again at Oikawa's answering smile. A part of him quivered slightly, wondering; was that how things were for Oikawa with Iwaizumi? Were they trapped in a routine, going through the same motions together? Wakatoshi quickly squashed the thought. Even if it were the case, it wasn't his place to speculate. 

"Come on then," Oikawa murmured, sliding closer to him. "One quick fumble in the bushes, then we really should get some sleep."

Wakatoshi frowned. "I do not advise sexual activity in a bush."

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Wakacchan—"

"It's dark, for one thing, and there may be predators—"

"I'm rather _hoping_ for a predator," Oikawa interrupted, pushing his thigh between Wakatoshi's knees. "Stop teasing me, Wakacchan. We're just here for one night. Let's make the most of it."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave us some kudos or a comment if you had fun :) 
> 
> You can share this fic on [tumblr](https://notallballs.tumblr.com/post/172207607497/talk-all-through-the-night-mousecat-notallballs) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/notallbees/status/977597341032177666)! Subscribe to the [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/926067) for updates :>


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